Abroad craziness
by xSweetypiie
Summary: She's send across the world because her parents are afraid she will hurt herself. Will this exchange program help her get her life back on track, or will the pain only get worse because of it. Niley & Jemi
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything  
**Translation: **Everything with a * behind it will be translated on the end of the chapter :)

_And you tossed it in the trash._  
_You tossed it in the trash, you did._

Her gray eyes narrowed as she stared at the ground outside the window. She shifted uncomfortable in the blue seat she was sitting in. To the right her black haired friend was reading in a book, an pair of old-styled headphones on her head, and the gray eyed girl could faintly hear the music that her friend was playing. She turned her narrowed eyes back to the window, glaring at the ground below them. She ignored the stewardess that asked her if she wanted anything, and she also ignored the nudge she received from her best friend when she didn't say anything. She could hear her black haired friend politely say to the woman that she wasn't feeling too well. But as soon as the stewardess left, the brunette was grasped by her arm harshly.

"Wat?(*)"

She didn't mean to snap, but the last few days had brought up that she snapped at everything that happened around her. She was pissed. Pissed at her school, at her mother, even at her best friend's mother. They were the reason she was now on this plane, zooming off to the other side of the world. Her mother, and her friend's mother had signed them up for an exchange program with a school in America, and there was no way she would have gotten out of it. So here she was, along with her best friend, on a plane towards her hell.

"Je hoeft niet zo kattig te doen zeg! Die vrouw was alleen maar vriendelijk!(2*)"

The black haired girl glared at her companion, her brown eyes narrowing. The brunette just shrugged her arm free and turned back towards the window of the airplane, looking down at the ground, and the clouds, that were zooming past beneath them. She made a move to grab onto her headphones, but they were grabbed away from her before she could touch them. "Wat nou?(3*)" She turned to look at the girl besides her, who was holding onto her headphones and iPod, her eyebrows pulled up. "Demi," She growled. "geef terug.(4*)"

Demi pulled her eyebrows even up higher. "Zodat je me nog meer buiten kan sluiten? Miley, er is een reden waarom je ouders je naar het buitenland sturen!(5*)" She glanced at the sleeping man besides her and quieted her voice a little bit, scared to wake him up. "Ze willen niet dat je jezelf helemaal gaat afzonderen, en ik vindt dat ze gelijk hebben. Straks ga je ook nog doen alsof ik niet meer besta!(6*)" She shook her head slightly, her dark locks moving with every move she made with her head.

"Dat gaat niet gebeuren.(7*)" Miley scoffed, looking away again. "Ik snap niet waarom m'n ouders denken dat ik _hier _socialer van ga worden. Ik kan niet tegen ze praten in mijn eigen taal, en het zijn waarschijnlijk een stelletje snobs.(8*)" She rolled her gray eyes, which had now specks of icey blue in them. "Wat voor naam voor een stad is Wyckoff nou weer, en waarom echt New Jersey? Konden we niet gewoon naar LA of zo?(9*)"

"Nee dat konden we niet.(10*)" Her friend growled, dropping the headphones back in the girl's lap. "Maar ga jij lekker zitten zeiken, dan ga ik wel lol hebben. Het is alsof je dat woord nooit hebt gekend. Je bent verandert Miley, en niet in op een goede manier.(11*)" But the gray eyed girl just rolled her eyes again and turned to look out of the window.

The voice of the pilot came from the speakers, telling them to put their seatbelts on and that they would be landing in a few moments. "We hope you had a nice flight with us. In a few minutes we will be landing at JFK. The temperature in 82,4 degrees. We hope to see you back soon." There was a noise, and the sign for the seatbelt sprang to life, glowing red.

-x

"En nu, miss '_ik kan niet wachten tot we landen!_'?(12*)" Miley crossed her arms, leaning onto her left leg slighty. Her best friend was looking around herself, trying to catch a glimpse of the family they would be staying with for the rest of the school year. Bu it was hard. People were pushing around the, hoping to be still able to catch their flight, or being happy to finally be back home with their families. It was a chaos, and Miley jumped slightly when she heard Demi shriek before she grabbed onto her arm to drag her into a random direction. She was still able to grab onto her suitcase before she stumbled behind the energetic blackhead.

"Ik zei toch dat alles goed ging komen!(13*)" She giggled as she pointed at a group of three people. The woman holding a sign that said; '_Miley Cyrus and Demi Lovato! Welcome in New Jersey!_' The man was looking around, probably looking for them, while the nineteen-year-old looking boy was shaking his head at the woman who was happily chatting away to him. "Hello!" Demi shrieked, her English layered with a thick accent.

"Ja, doe dat vooral! Zo denken ze nog dat je een of andere weirdo bent.(14*)" Miley groaned when the brown eyed girl began walking faster. Miley was sure she would have been waving like a madman, wasn't it that she was carrying a heavy black suitcase with her. "Demi, doe in godsnaam een beetje normaal!(15*)" But it was as if the blackhead didn't hear her. They were nearing the family, and Demi was happily shouting '_Hello_' again with her thick Belgian accent.

"Ah, you must be Demi and Miley! Welcome to America girls!" She offered Demi her hand, who looked at it plainly at first, before shaking the woman's hand slowly. She was used that when she met someone, she would give them three kisses on the cheek. She soon brushed it off, shaking hands with the man and then the boy, which lasted noticeably longer than the other two. A slight blush crept onto her cheeks as she stepped away from him.

She winced slightly as Miley jammed her elbow into her side. She shot a look at her friend, who just wriggled her eyebrows at her. She growled and pushed her, making her stumble against her suitcase. But she knew Miley had good reflexes, so she wasn't worried about her friend falling over.

"Ja, dankje voor dat!(16*)" She straightened her sweatshirt and glared at Demi. "Ik heb het altijd al leuk gevonden om over een koffer te flikkeren. Nu is m'n leven echt compleet!(17*)" She added dramatically, pushing Demi slightly.

"Hmmm." Demi just muttered, grabbing onto her own suitcase and following the man, woman and boy as they made their way through the still chaotic crowd. She jumped slightly, placing her blue book bag higher onto her shoulder as she walked.

"We are so glad that you're finally here. And we hope you have a great school year." The woman smiled at them as they exited the airport, then stopping as her husband looked around him, trying to locate their car. "You didn't forget where you parked the car, right?" She sighed as her husband stayed quiet, still looking around. "_Unbelievable_." She muttered, looking at her son. "Joe? Where did your dad park the car?" Her son pointed to his left and she grabbed her husband's arm, taking him into that direction.

Miley took a glance back at the main building of the airport, her gray eyes having a look of longing into them. "Kunnen we echt ni-(17*)" She was cut of short when Demi gave her a glare. "Sorry." She huffed, keeping silent till they reached a black car. The man opened the trunk while the boy heaved their suitcases inside, muttering something about them being heavy as hell. He quickly got scolded by his mother for his language, which made a smile appear on Miley's face for the first time in days.

"Did I see a smile?"

She shook out of it, her smile disappearing again. "Wat?(*)" She looked at Demi, who was looking smugly at her.

"Je glimlachte.(18*)" Her grin only spread wider when Miley huffed and opened the cardoor to get inside. She followed Miley when she saw that he boy also get into the backseat. She closed the cardoor behind her, being now squeezed in between it and Miley, as she tried to stay as far as possible from the boy. "_Hij zal echt niks doen_.(19*)" She whispered, receiving an angry look from Miley. "Wat? Ik zeg het alleen maar.(20*)" She shrugged when she saw Miley take her iPod and headphones from her black and hot pink book bag.

"So Demi," Denise, as Demi now knew, turned around in her seat, looking at her. "What do you think of America so far?"

Demi looked out the window before looking back at her. "Well," She started, trying hard to not let her Belgian accent come through too much. "From what I've seen so far, it looks so different then Belgium. And it's a lot warmer." To prove her point she shrugged her jacket off, leaving her in just a short sleeved, black t-shirt.

"You won't be needing any long sleeved things here for a long time, it's always hot here in the summer." Denise smiled before she turned around again. If she had not done that she wouldn't have missed the look that the girl shot to Miley, pain in her eyes. But she quickly looked away as she saw the boy on the other side of the car stare at her. She quickly took her phone from her jeans pocket and turning it on, making a new text message that she could send to her parents.

"So, you're both fifteen, am I right?" Denise's husband, Paul, took a quickly glance in his rearview mirror before looking back to the road ahead of them.

"No, I am fifteen, Miley just turned sixteen a few weeks ago." She could feel Miley's eyes on her, as if she knew she was talking about her. "I'm turning sixteen this May, I'm pretty psyched about it too."

_To give me all your love is all I ever had,  
'cause what you don't understand is._

I hope you like the first chapter of my new story. It looks like they're from the Netherlands, but that is because I don't really know how Flemish people speak, they use mostly Dutch words, but also some other things, and I don't know any of them. :)

_(*): 'What'  
(2*): 'You don't have to be so bitchy! That woman was only friendly.'  
(3*): 'What now?'  
(4*): 'give back.'  
(5*): 'So you can ignore me out even more? Miley, there's a reason why your parents are sending you abroad!'  
(6*): 'They don't want you to cut yourself off all the way, and I think they're right. Next you'll start acting like you don't even know me!'  
(7*): 'That's not going to happen.'  
(8*); 'I don't get why my parents think I get more social because of __**this**__. I can't even talk to them in my own language, and they're probably a bunch of preps.'  
(8*): 'What kind of name for a city is Wycoff anyway, and why New Jersey? Couldn't we have gone to LA or something?'  
(10*): 'No we couldn't.'  
(11*): 'But you can go sit and whine, then I'll be having fun. It's as if you have never even known the word. You've changed Miley, and not in a good way.'  
(12*): 'And now, miss '__**I can't wait till we land.**__'?'  
(13*): 'I told you everything would be alright.'  
(14*): 'Yes, do that! Then they'll think you're some kind of weirdo.'  
(15*): 'Demi, act normal for god's sake.'  
(16*): 'Yes, thank you for that!'  
(17*): 'I've always liked it to fall over a suitcase. Now my life's really complete!'  
(18*): 'You smiled.'  
(19*): '__**He won't do anything.**__'  
(20*): 'What, I'm only saying.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything  
**Translation: **Everything with a * behind it will be translated on the end of the chapter :)  
The ^ will be explained on the end of the chapter as well :)

'_Cause baby you're a firework,  
come on let your colors burst!_

"So, welcome to your home for the next months." Denise led the girls through the hallway, leaving it to her husband and middle son to carry the girls' suitcases inside. "I hope you will see this as your home." She went through a door at the end of the hallway, leading them into the livingroom. "Nick, Kevin, Frankie? Where are you?" She yelled, and moments later it felt as if the house shook as three pair of feet raced down the stairs. Demi swore she heard yelling at who was allowed to go first through the door.

In the end it was a small nine-year-old looking boy who went through fist, followed by a boy who looked around sixteen, and then one that looked like he was twenty, or something like that. Demi smiled at them, and then nudged Miley in her ribs to make her look up. She heard her best friend grumble something under her breath before she pulled her sleeves over hands, finally looking up at the three boys.

"Hey!" Demi smiled, walking up to the boy who looked the oldest. "I'm Demi, nice to meet you." Her Belgian accent laced her voice again as she went to shake the two younger boys' hands. She was soon followed by Miley, who only stated her name.

"Miley dear, aren't you a little hot in that sweater?"

Miley looked at Demi in alarm before she looked down at her shirt, panic flashing through her eyes. She pulled at her sleeves again, and Demi jumped into action, putting on an obviously fake smile. "No, no!" All eyes in the room, except for the little boy's, were turned on her. "S-she," She stuttered, glancing back at Miley who was hugging herself. "She gets cold really easy! Even when it's like 32 degrees(^) outside, she still whines that it's cold!" Confusion ran through the middle son's, who was in the room, eyes, but realization quickly dawned on him. "So, there's no need to be worried about that misses Jonas."

Miley shot her best friend a thankful look, which went unnoticed by everyone but Demi. "Alright then," Denise smiled. "but please call me Denise, misses Jonas makes me sound old." She laughed. "And take a seat, there's no need for us to keep standing here all day." She ushered the two girls towards a couch, while she took a chair and her sons took another couch.

Demi kept taking glances at Miley, who was looking out of the window absendmindley. "Is it okay for us to unpack first?" She looked at Denise, who nodded and asked one of her sons, the middle one, to make sure they went towards the right room. "Thank you." She grabbed onto Miley's arm, who shrieked and slammed it backwards, hitting Demi in her stomach, who winced at the impact.

It was then that the brunette girl realized where she was, and she gasped as she turned to Demi, who was softly rubbing her stomach. "Oh god, Demi! Het spijt me! Ik wist niet da-(*)" She stopped talking when the blackhead raised her hand, motioning that it was fine and that she understood. "Sorry." She bit her lip as she felt all the eyes in the room on her. She knew it wouldn't take long before a tear would drip down her face. And Demi also knew.

So the brown eyed girl grabbed onto her arm again and pulled her up, smiling innocently to Denise before she went towards the doorway towards the hall, where she waited for the boy to lead them to where they would be sleeping. She took a glance at Miley, who's gray eyes were filling with tears. She knew they were, even though brunette locks framed her friend's face as she looked down. "Het is ok Miley.(2*)" She rubbed the girls arm, trying to comfort her.

The boy, Nick, glanced back at them, frowning as his eyes landed on Miley. He then looked forwards again, stopping in front of a door. "This is you room." He opened it, and saw their suitcases already being placed on the two beds. "I'll leave you to your unpacking." He mumbled, walking away, but not before taking one last look at Miley before he did so.

Demi pushed Miley inside gently, closing the door behind them. She watched as her best friend sat down on one of the beds, her head in her hands. "Miley, gaat het?(3*)" She sat down next to the brunette, who shook her head, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "Miley," She sighed, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. "Het komt wel goed, dat weet ik zeker.(4*)"

"Nee,(5*)" Miley pushed herself away from her. "het zal nooit goed komen!(5*)" Tears welled in her eyes till they slid down her cheeks one by one. "Ik doe me zelf pijn omdat het goed voelt Demi! Dat is niet normaal!(6*)" She gasped, her voice choking on her tears. "En jij doet alsof het iets is waar ik in een dag of twee mee kan stoppen! Maar dat kan niet Demi, ik ben er verslaafd aan!(7*)" She buried her head in her hands again, her shoulders heaving up and down with every breath she took.

Demi sighed and got up from the bed, walking over towards her suitcase. She knew better than to start an argument with Miley since she found her passed out on her bathroom floor, blood seeping from the cuts on her right wrist, the wrist she always cutted. It had scarred Demi mentally, seeing her best friend lying on the floor, slowly bleeding to death. It had been mere hours after they had an huge argument about Miley's cutting. Since then Demi swore to herself to never let an argument get so out of hand as that one had been. They had shouted at eachother, calling eachother names. Demi had said things to her best friend she would never even want to _think _about again.

She could hear Miley get up from the bed, rummage through her bag before leaving the room. Demi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger. She knew what Miley was going to do, and she felt helpless, knowing there was nothing she could do for her best friend to stop this. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them back, zipping her bag open and pulling a stack of t-shirts from it. She could hear the toilet flush a few times in the distant as she emptied her bag before she went over to Miley's.

-x

Miley stumbled through the bathroom door, making sure it was tightly shut and locked before she dropped onto her knees in front of the toilet, her head hanging above it. She gagged, her whole body shaking as it threw up the few things she had eaten all day. Tears slid down her cheeks at a rapid pace as another gag made her throw up again. She grabbed onto the edge of the toilet, her knuckles turning white from the death grip she was holding it in.

She leaned away from it, sobbing quietly. She shakingly stood up on her legs, leaning over so she could flush the toilet. The rushing sound of the water calmed her in some way, but the noise also made her head pound. She dropped herself back onto the ground, in the small space inbetween the toilet and the bathtub. She grabbed onto the small pocketknife she had taken from her suitcase earlier. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, but it was like a drug to her. It was her _addiction_.

She touched the tip with her left pointer finger, immediately drawing a small drop of blood. She watched it drizzle down her finger and hand, till it reached her wrist, where it then rested, waiting to dry up. She switched the knife to her other hand, resting the blade against her right wrist, that was visible as she pulled her sleeve up till her elbow.. She blinked once, twice, before she bit her lip, dragging the knife along a white line that was already there. She bit her lip harder, so the cry she made was muffled. Tears welled up in her eyes as she let the blade slip from her finger, dropping onto the floor.

She reached for the toilet paper, tearing a large piece of. The tears that had welled up in her eyes slid down her cheeks as she dabbed the toilet paper at the cut. It turned red almost immediately. She held it in place as she traced a small blood trail down her arm with her eyes, till it disappeared in the inside of her elbow. She took a breath and got up from the floor, walking over towards the sink and turning it on. She took the paper off the cut, looking at it for a few moments before she held her wrist under the streaming water, wincing as the water hit the skin around her fresh cut.

She looked up at her reflection, noticing how pale her face was. Her eyes were red, and here were dark circles under them. She turned off the faucet, looking at the red water that was slowly twirling down the drain. She looked at her wrist, where blood was still welling up from the cut. She picked her pocketknife up from the ground, wiping it with a piece of clean toilet paper before she flushed both that and the bloody one down the toilet, watching them disappear.

With one last look at her wrist, she pulled her sleeve back down, making sure it covered a part of her hand as well. She unlocked the bathroom and slipped out of it, but not before making sure there wasn't a trace of blood left on the floor, or somewhere else. She slipped into the room she had left earlier, noticing that both Demi's and her suitcases were empty, and her best friend nowhere in sight. She pulled the pillow off her bed, placing her knife down before dropping the pillow on top of it. She made sure it couldn't be seen before she left the room, starting her search for Demi.

It wasn't long before she heard her laughing downstairs. She quickly rushed down the stairs, pulling at her right sleeve and making sure she did not stumble down the stairs. Her best friend's laughter came from behind a door, and she opened it to reveal Demi sitting at the kitchen table, along with Denise and Joe. She saw Demi look down at her arm, and she knew that her best friend was able to see the darker spots on her black sweatshirt.

"Oh my," The voice made Miley's eyes snap way from Demi's, looking at Denise. "Miley dear, you look awfully pale. Are you feeling alright?"

The brunette quickly nodded her head, again pulling at her sleeves. "I'm," She cleared her throat. "I'm fine." She saw Joe look at her suspiciously after he noticed that the girl besides him was staring at her. Miley quickly looked down and sat in a chair, which was across from Demi, and next to Denise.

"Are you sure dear? I could make you some tea is you'd want." Denise sat back when the girl next to her only shook her head, looking down at the table. "Alright then." She said, a little unsure.

"Mom!" Nick stormed into the kitchen, a thick booklet with random papers sticking out of the sides in his hand. "Joe stole my notebook again!" He dropped it onto the table, in front of Miley, who jumped slightly at the noise it made as it slammed onto the wood. But Nick didn't notice, as he was glaring daggers at his older brother. "I found it in his room, under his dirty _socks_." He hissed, grabbing his notebook again.

"Nicholas, calm down, it was just a notebook." His mother shushed, missing the slight blush that crept on her son's cheeks. She then turned towards her other son, who was about to say something. "And for you Joseph, do not steal your brother's things." She got up from her chair, taking her tea glass with her. "You'll do the dishes tonight, _alone_." She left the kitchen as her son started to protest, stating that he did not do anything _wrong_.

Nick just huffed, dropping into the seat his mother had occupied moments earlier, taking a cookie from the plate in the middle off the table. "How many times do I have to tell you to _not_ steal my notebook?" He took a bite from the cookie, chewing as he glared at Joe.

"I just want to know what your heart is saying all the time, brother dearest." Joe smirked, but ducked as a small piece of his brother's cookie came flying his way. "_That_," He looked at the piece of cookie that had still hit him, and was now lying on the table in front of him. "was uncalled for!"

"I'm so glad I don't have any siblings..." The voice made the boys turn their attention to the blackhead next to Joe. She was sipping her tea, looking slightly amused at their bickering. "I mean," She placed the hot drink down. "I would just kill my sibling if he or she stole something from me. Wouldn't you do the same, Mi?" She looked at her best friend as she did not get a reaction. Miley was staring at her fingers, the part that came out of her sleeves, and was twisting them slightly. "Miley?"

The girl's head snapped up, her gray eyes staring into Demi's brown ones. "Hmm?"

"Ik denk dat je beter naar bed kan gaan...(8*)" She stated softly, looking on as Miley nodded and got up from her seat.

Nick was also watching her, and he swore he saw a thin line, or maybe even a few thin lines, run across her wrists when her sleeve rose up past her wrist as she pushed her chair in. He also saw her quickly pull it down before she turned around and left. He stared after her, till she disappeared through the door, letting it fall close behind her silently. He then looked at the brown eyed girl next to his brother. "Is she alright?"

She was silent for a second, looking anywhere but at him. She then sighed and nodded her head slowly. "Yeah, probably just a jetlag or something. She never went out the country, let stand a different time zone." Her Belgian accent laced through her voice again. She grabbed onto her tea glass again, trying to hide the look in her eyes while she drank from it with careful sips.

"You sure it's only that? I don't think someone can get _that_ pale by just a jetlag." Nick looked back at the door again. And when he looked back at Demi he could see something flash through her eyes, but he could not place it.

_Make 'em go, ah, ah, ah,  
when you shoot across the sky, y, y._

_(^): I meant it in degrees, not Fahrenheit._

_(*): 'Oh my god, Demi! I'm sorry! I didn't kn-'  
(2*): 'It's alright Miley.'  
(3*): 'Miley, everything alright?'  
(4*): 'It's gonna be alright, I know it for sure.'  
(5*): 'No,' 'it will never be alright!'  
(6*): 'I'm hurting myself because it feels good Demi! That's not normal!'  
(7*): 'And you act like it's something I can drop in a day or two! But I can't Demi, I'm addicted to it!'  
(8*): 'I think it's better if you go to bed Miley…'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything!  
**Translations: **Everything with a * behind it will be translate on the end of the chapter :)

_You don't understand what is is,  
but it makes me tick._

Miley scrambled around her and Demi's room, picking up random things and shoving them into the black and pink bookbag in her hands. She and Demi would have their first day of highschool, and she was still trying to find her notepad. She finally found it lying on her bed, underneath a shirt. She dumped it into her bag and quickly zipped it close, rushing out the door. But before she could pass the threshold, she bumped into something, making her fall backwards.

But before she could make an impact with the floor, a pair of arms grabbed her around her waist. She gasped, her closed eyes flying open as the bag fell from her hands, her now free hands pushed against the person while a scream emmited from her throat. She stumbled backwards, tripping over her booksbag. With a loud shriek and a bang she collapsed against the floor.

"Oh damn, are you alright?" A voice asked from above her, and Miley scrambled away as a hand appeared infront of her. "Miley?"

The girl looked up, her grey eyes staring into the brown ones of Nick, who was still holding his hand out towards her. She nodded her head quickly, pushing herself up from the ground. She brushed her clothes off, grabbing her bag before brushing past him quickly. He couldn't turn around quickly enough, as she was already down the stairs as soon as he did turn around. "_There's something really wrong with that girl._" He muttered before closing the door behind him, following Miley down the stairs.

He found her and Demi whispering to eachother. Miley pulled away from her ear, and Demi looked at her with wide eyes. The brunette bit her lip and nodded her head, looking down as soon as she saw him enter the room. Her mouth moved, and Demi's eyes only grew bigger. An exclamation of; '_Nee!(*)_' had Miley slam her hand across her best friend's mouth. He could vaguely hear her say something, but seeing as she spoke Flemish, he could not understand her.

Nick was ripped from his staring by Joe rushing past him, his bookbag slamming into his side. "Joe!" He growled, turning around to watch his brother grab his car keys from the table against the hallway wall. He huffed when he heard his brother yell: '_I'm driving_!' as he dissapeared through the door. He turned back around to look at the two girls, who were placing his mother's paper lunchbags into their backpacks. "You're coming? because he will drive off without us if we don't hurry up."

Demi nodded and grabbed onto Miley's arm, who jumped slightly but allowed her best friend to pull her along till they reached a silver car. She quickly ducked inside while Demi got in on the other side. She sat down, pulled her seatbelt on and placed her bag onto her lap, her hands gripping at it tightly as the car began to drive off. "Is het te laat om nog terug naar huis te gaan? Zeg me dat het niet te laat is om nog terug naar huis te gaan!(2*)" Miley looked at Demi, her eyes begging. She didn't notice Nick turn his head so he could see her from the rearview mirror.

"Miley." Demi sighed in annoyance. "Als je hier niet naartoe had gewild, was dan niet op dat vliegtuig gestapt!(3*)"

"Ik had lekker veel keus wil je zeggen! Jij en mam hebben me gedwongen!(4*)" Her breathing became heavier, and Demi noted that. Her brown eyes softened slightly as she looked on at Miley. "Ik wil naar huis.(5*)" Her eyes darted from left to right. "Ik wil naar huis Demi!(5*)" She shrieked, which caused Joe to swerve a little and take a quick glance in his rearview mirror at her. Nick just turned around in his seat fully, looking slightly alarmed. But her breathing became even heavier and quicker, and Demi's eyes widened. "Demi!"

"Er is niks dat ik kan doen Miley!(6*)" Her eyes widened as her best friend's face began to pale slightly. "Fuck!" She unbuckled her seatbelt, scooting over to her. "Stop the car!" When Joe just glanced at her, an odd look on his face, she screamed again. "Stop the damn car, _now_!" Joe turned the wheel, pulling towards the side of the road and coming to a halt a few seconds later. Demi threw herself across Miley's lap and bookbag, throwing the cardoor open so Miley could escape.

The brunette stumbled out of the car, falling onto her knees on the pavement. She gagged, a tear sliding down her face. She gagged again, but did not vomit. Demi was by her side in a flash, followed by a much taller figure.

"What the fuck just happened?" She could hear Joe ask to Demi. Demi said something to him, but she couldn't hear what as her gag reflex kicked in again. She looked at Demi, who was kneeling besides her.

"Ik heb hulp nodig.(7*)" She hiccuped before collapsing against the floor, tears streaming down her face at a rapid pace. "_Ik kan dit niet alleen_.(8*)"

-x

"Talk."

Demi just stared at Joe and Denise, who were standing infront of her. She bit her lips, her eyes traveling towards the door that led from the livingroom to the hallway. "_I can't_." She whispered, a tear slipping down her face. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone." She looked down at her lap, where she was twisting her fingers. "I just can't!" She looked up again, more tears gathering in her eyes.

"Honey," Denise spoke softly, sitting next to Demi on the couch, her arm draping across the blackhead's shoulders. "this is about Miley's health. If you don't tell us what's wrong, we can't do anything to help her."

"As if I don't know that!" She shook her head, burying her face in her hands. "But I promised! I can't just break a promise like _that_!" She looked up again, black traces of her mascara running down her cheeks. "I've tried to help, I really did. But nothing seems to reach her!" Her head snapped to look at the door when she heard a scream she had heard thousands of times before. She bolted up to her feet, racing throgh the door and up the stairs. "Miley!" She stumbled, but reached the top of the stairs without falling. She threw the door open, revealing Miley and Nick.

Miley was sitting in the space between her bed and nightstand, her legs tucked to her chest, and her head burried in her knees. Nick was infront of her on his knees, trying in all his might to calm the brunette down. But every time he touched her knee, or any part of her for that matter, a scream would erupt from her throat. "Nick, get away from her!" But the curlyhead just turned to look at her, his brown eyes flashed something that Demi only could identify as some kind of hurt. "Nick, you're scaring her! Get away from her!" But it was as if the boy was frozen into place. So the black haired girl grabed his shoulder, dragging him away by pulling on his shirt.

She pulled him away from the shaking brunette a good few feet before she fell to her knees next to her, speaking a quiet voice. "Het is goed Miley, het is 'm niet. Het is Nick maar.(9*)" Miley looked up at er, dark circles underneath her eyes from her leaking mascara, and her eyes bloodshot red. "Hij kan je hier helemaal niks doen. Hij zit in België, achter slot en grendel. Hij zal je nooit meer wat doen, dat beloof ik je.(10*)"

"_Dat is een belofte die je niet kan houden Dems, en dat weet je_.(11*)" Her voice was hoarse as she spoke, and she had to repeat a few words before she could finally say them right. "_Je weet dat zodra ie vrij komt, hij me komt zoeken_.(11*)"

"Dan blijven we hier,(12*)" Demi simply said, her eyes staring into Miley's. "Je weet dat je ouders _alles_ zullen doen om er zeker van te zijn dat je veilig bent. Zelfs als dat betekent dat je in Amerika moet blijven.(12*)" A sob escaped from Miley and she threw her arms around Demi's neck, hugging her tightly and sobbing into her body. "Ik beloof je dat hij nooit meer bij je in de buurt komt. Ookal doe ik mijzelf pijn.(13*)" She hugged the sobbing girl back just as tight.

"Hij zal me vinden Demi! Hij wist me altijd te vinden! Het maakt niet uit of ik hier ben verdomme!(14*)"

_Buit you wish you.  
You're always second guess, wondering._

_(*): '__No!'  
(2*): 'Is it too late to go back home? Tell me it's not too late to go back home!  
(3*): ' If you didn't want to go here you shouldn't have stepped in that plane!'  
(4*): 'As if I had a say in it! You and mom forced me!'  
(5*): 'I wanna go home.' 'I wanna go home Demi!'  
(6*): 'There's nothing I can do Miley!'  
(7*): 'I need help.'  
(8*): '__**I can't do this on my own.**__'  
(9*): 'It's alright Miley, it's not him. It's only Nick.'  
(10*): 'He can't hurt you're here. He's in Belgium, behind bars. He will never hurt you again, I promise you that.'  
(11*): '__**That's a promise you can't keep Dems, and you know that.**__' '__**You know that as soon as he get released, he will come look for me.**__'  
(12*): 'Then we'll stay here,' 'You know that your parent will do __**anything**__ to be sure you're safe. Even if that means we have to stay in America.'  
(13*) 'I promise you that he will never get close to you. Even if I hurt myself.'  
(14*): 'He will find me Demi! He always found knew how to find me! It doesn't matter if I'm here godammit!' _


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.  
**Translations: **I decided to do something else this time. I put the translations behind the sentences… I hope that's better?

_Every rose has it's torn,  
just like every night has it's dawn._

"Je moet het ze vertellen Miley, ze hebben her recht om het te weten. _(*You have to tell them Miley, they have the right to know.)_" Demi held onto Miley's hand tightly. They were standing in the hallway, while the Jonas family, minus Paul and Frankie, were in the livingroom. Miley was sure they were talking about her, it was something she could feel. "Ze gaan het wel begrijpen, dat weet ik zeker._(*They will understand, I'm sure.)_"

"Dat gaan ze niet Demi._(*They won't Demi.)_" Miley bit her lip, shaking her head. "Maar ze hebben inderdaad het recht om het te weten._(*But they do have the right to know.)_" She glanced down, and when she looked up Demi saw the tears that had welled up in her eyes. "Maar zeg ze alsjeblieft niks over dat snijden. Ik wil echt niet dat ze dat weten._(*But please don't tell them about the cutting. I don't want them to know.)_" She sniffed and wiped away the tear that slid down her cheek. Her best friend got a look of hesistation on her face. "Asjeblieft Demi._(*Please Demi.)_" She sniffed again, and her friend cracked, nodding her head slowly. "Dankje._(*Thank you.)_"

Demi sighed, shaking her head again. "Oke, Oke." She then pushed the door to the livingroom open, dragging Miley inside with her. Four pair of eyes turned towards them, and they made Miley duck her head and struggle against her grip, but she just held on tighter. She felt the hand shake, and she loosened her grip slightly, but not too much so Miley could bolt out of the room. "Uhm," She looked at the family in hesitation. "I think we owe you a huge explanation." She turned to look at Miley as everyone kept silent, and they just stared at them. "Wil je dat ik het vertel?_(*You want me to say it?)_"

Miley quickly nodded, and she tried to hide herself behind Demi's body. But since she was taller than the blackhead, it was hard.

Demi took a breath, glancing back at Miley and squeezing her hand tightly. She pulled her with her and sat down on the empty couch. "Three years ago," She looked back at Mile again, who was shaking slightly, and had her head ducked again. "we met this boy. He was two years older, but we didn't think it mattered in a friendship. But then he started to show interest in Miley as more then friends..." She paused, feeling Miley's grip tighten on her hand. "We thought we knew him, so Miley said yes once he asked her to be his girlfriend. The first few months went well. He took her out on small dates, showered her with presents.."

"..but then it went horribly wrong." Demi could hear Miley gasp for air, and begin to shake even harder then she was before. "He started pushing her into things she didn't want to do. Stealing.." She looked at each of the people in front of her one by one, before she looked at Miley, who was now fully sobbing. "...sexual activities," She continued. "But when she refused, he started to get abusive." She could hear a gasp, but was unsure if it had come from Miley, Denise, or any of the boys. "It even came to the point where he raped her, and then.." Tears rolled down her cheeks, and a sob escaped from her. "..then he beat her till she was almost unconscious. She was so lucky Mitchel had found them before he could do any more damage. Otherwise she might have.." She chocked on her words, tears rolling down her face at a faster pace.

She looked up. She saw Denise hold her hand in front of her open mouth, tears gathering in her eyes. Joe, Nick and Kevin almost looked the same, they stared at the small, shivering form of Miley, and Nick even had a tear rolling down his cheek. She looked t her side to see Miley jump up from the couch and then rush out the room. Demi shook her head and buried it in her hands, knowing exactly what Miley was going to do in the upstairs bathroom; throw up and cut her wrist.

She didn't want help, she always said she didn't need help. Demi could hear the bathroom door fall shut, and she shook her head once again. She could feel the eyes of every other person in the room on her, and she stood up from her seat. "I'm sorry," Her voice was thick, and laced with her Flemish accent. "it's still hard on her, on both of us actually." With that she quickly left the room, just in time to hear the toilet flush upstairs.

She opened the door towards their shared bedroom, giving one last glance at the bathroom door before she disappeared inside. She dropped herself onto her bed and grabbed her phone, that laid on her bedsides table to charge, and typed in the, to her, familiar number. "Mitchel," She choked out. "Ze is het weer aan het doen,_(*She's doing it again,)_" She was silent to listen to the boy on the other side of her call. "We hebben ze verteld over, _je weet wel wie_, ik ben bang dat ze deze keer verder gaat dan normaal._(*We told them about, __**you know who**__, I'm scared that she'll go further than normal this time.)_" She tried to fight against the tears that clouded her vision, but one still rolled onto her cheekbone. "Ik weet gewoon niet meer wat ik moet doen._(*I just don't know what to do anymore.)_" She hiccupped.

"Ik probeer alles Mitch, maar het werkt gewoon niet._(*I'm trying everything Mitch, but it just doesn't work.)_" She breathed in deeply. "Ze is zelfs bang voor de zoons van de familie waar we zitten. Ze flipt iedere keer als een van hen in de buurt komt._(*She's even afraid of the sons of the family where we're staying. She flips every time one of them comes near her.)_" She was silent again, but her head snapped up when she heard a door slam close nearby. "Ik moet gaan, het spijt me, ik bel snel._(*I have to go, I'm sorry, I'll call soon.)_" She tapped the _cancel call _button and quickly plugged her phone back on the charger and placed it onto her bedside table, just in time for Miley to enter the room.

The brunette pulled on her sleeves, and it was as if she didn't even see Demi as she placed her pocket knife under her pillow. Demi watched on as she gazed at the wall with glazed over eyes before dropping herself on her bed, letting a loud sob escape her as soon as she hid her head in her pillow.

-x

Miley wrapped her arms around her legs as she stared at the movements on the television with a blank look. She was aware of the person that was walking into the livingroom and sat down on the couch next to her, but she didn't pay any attention to him or her. It was around thirty degrees Celsius outside, but she was still wearing a thick sweater. The past months she was always cold, and that was probably because of her heavy weight loss in the past six months.

The sound of a guitar playing startled her, and her head turned to the left quickly. Her eyes landed on a person who was hunched over an acoustic guitar, his curls bouncing on top of his head slightly with every movement. Her eyes stared at his fingers, and how smoothly they plucked at the strings, throwing a soft melody across the silent room. She always dreamed of once playing the guitar, and her voice quivered slightly when she _spoke _to him for the first time. "Could you teach me how to do that?"

His fingers stopped playing abruptly, and his head shot up to look at her, causing Miley to shove herself back against the arm rest of the couch. "N-niet slaan, het s-spijt me!_(*Don't hit me, I'm sorry!)_" She hid her head in her arms, trying to make herself as small as possible. She whimpered slightly and peeked through the small space between her arms, only to see him staring at her with a worried expression on his face. She lowered her arms slightly and wrapped them around herself.

"You want me to teach you how to play the guitar?"

She nodded slowly, biting her lips while looking away. Somewhere inside her told her that he was safe to communicate with, that it was safe to get to know him. But still, something as well told her that all boys were danger, and that she should run from them as fast as she could. Her head snapped towards him when she felt the coolness and the weight of his guitar in her lap. She stared at him for a few moments before she turned her eyes on the guitar. It was a brown, reddish color, with black sides. She had never held a guitar, but it surprised her that it wasn't as heavy as she had expected.

She could feel him closer to her. She could feel his breath on her neck, and she could feel his hands near hers as he moved his guitar in position. She stiffened when his hand touched hers and placed it onto body of his guitar, near the strings. His own hand rested on the neck, adjusting his fingers so that whenever she would let her finger glide over the strings, a D chord would echo through the room. "If you move your hands across the strings, you'll hear the D chord." Her fingers moved, and the sound of a D chord swam around the room.

He moved his fingers into a new position. "A chord." Her fingers brushed past the strings again, and a different pitch in sound swam around them this time. He saw how the fingers on her free hand tried to imitate the position of his fingers. He grabbed her hand, and it clenched immediately. He didn't let go and placed it onto the neck of his guitar, positioning her ring, middle and pointer finger into the position of a D chord. "This is the position for a D chord." He released her hand, and he saw her relax. Her other hand moved across the strings, and the same sound as earlier rang through the room. He saw her gray eyes light up slightly as she moved her fingers across the strings again, the same sound filling the room again.

He placed his hand over hers again, moving her fingers till the were in the position of an A chord. "And this is the one for an A chord." Her fingers moved across the strings again as soon as he had released her hand, and the sound filled the silent room again and again. "D chord?" He watched on as she glanced at her hand, moving her fingers, but then hesitating again. He grabbed her fingers again, moving them around. "Here"

She could feel his warm breath brush past her cheeks. She turned her head slightly, her eyes widening as she saw him so close to her. Her body stiffened, her hand gripping the neck of the guitar a little tighter. She saw something flicker through his eyes, and that was the moment she scrambled away from him. "I-I," She placed the guitar between them and jumped up from the couch. "I need to go," She brushed a lock of her curls away, and she didn't notice how her sleeve dropped slightly, revealing her wrist.

He was on his feet within the next ten seconds, grabbing onto her wrist, causing her to stiffen at his touch. "What's this?" But before he could look at her wrist better, she had pulled it from his grasp, pulling her sleeve down over it. "Miley?"

She had her arms crossed across her chest, biting her lip and looking the other way. "It's nothing." She said in a small voice before she turned around and practically ran from the room. He stood there, staring after her disappearing form. A frown slipped onto his face when he heard the upstairs toilet flush. His head snapped towards the side when someone entered the livingroom from the kitchen. Demi stopped walking as soon as she saw the look he wore on his face.

"What?"

"Tell me what's wrong with her."

The black haired girl raised her dark eyebrows at his demanding tone. "What wrong with who?" Her accent laced her voice as she spoke. Se walked past him and sat on the couch, folding her legs underneath her as she placed her glass of orange juice on the coffee table.

"I saw the scars Demi."

He saw the girl freeze as she bend towards the coffee table as she wanted to place her glass down. Her head snapped towards him, her eyes big and frightened. "What scars?" She sat up stiffly, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. "I have no idea who you're talking about, or what you mean by scars Nick." Her voice was stiff, and her accent was even more noticeable. "I don't know anyone with scars that I know of."

"Miley's scars Demi, on her wrist." He saw her look alarmed at him, but her face showed calmness now. "I saw them, and I want you to tell me where she got them from." His eyes narrowed at the small girl, and she cowered back slightly when he walked towards her.

She suddenly snapped her head towards the hallway, as if she was called by someone from there, or from upstairs. "Ja? Ik kom er aan!_(*Yes? I'm coming!)_" She yelled and bolted up from her seat, leaving her glass of orange juice on the table. She was gone before Nick could react to stop her from leaving. He could hear a door slam close upstairs, followed by a frightened scream that sounded a lot like Miley, and then Demi's voice, telling her something in Dutch.

"What is all that commotion about?" Nick turned around to see Joe walking into the livingroom, a cookie in his left hand and a glass of milk in his other. "I've heard yelling, and doors slamming. What did you do this time?"

Nick scowled at him and grabbed his guitar from the couch. "I didn't do anything alright?" He snapped before pushing past Joe, who was just taking a sip from his milk. He had to spit it back out when he brother bumped into his shoulder, causing most of his sip to end up in his glass again, but some as well on his clothes and the floor.

"Dude!"

_Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song,  
every rose has it's torn._


End file.
